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Story:Kings of Strife/Part 35
Part Thirty-Five Vik had almost forgotten how hot it was in Nneoh. After traveling through the freezing cold of Norzaven, drifting through the temperate beaches of Inusia and fighting in the windy ports of Shorica, returning to Nneoh and being confronted with its unique heat was almost baffling to him. Unlike the desert of Inusia, Nneoh held an incredible humidity and impact to its heat, instantly inducing sweat and a parched feeling to one’s mouth. Vik loved the feeling and smiled nostalgically as soon as he stepped off the boarding ramp of the commercial airship he had taken to arrive at Nures, in northern Nneoh. His companion, however, was most likely not enjoying it as much as he was. She – or he?! – was visibly sweating. Vik had, as Vainia dropped the two off at a Shorican airport and paid for their travel, remained relatively unchanged visually, although he had ditched the dual handcuffs around his wrists. The Baron chosen to travel with him, named Jütenas if his memory served him correctly, had also not changed – although this was not a benefit to them. Skinny to the point of looking emaciated and covered in clothing from head to toe, Jütenas Kinandorf was not properly equipped for the tropical weather of northern Nneoh. What was most bewildering was the fact that Vik could not discern their gender at all, despite any close examination he attempted to lay upon them. There was no discussion between the two, not as they boarded the airship or left it. Although their silence was awkward at first, after their airship had lifted off into the air and the two reached their small cabin without any issues, Vik began to use his thoughts instead to ponder the complex situation he found himself in. No matter how he looked at it, Vik was the envoy and messenger of a rebel. A courageous, ambitious, and unbelievably successful rebel. It was impossible to wrap the mind around how Vainia had successfully escaped from Zeta Academy, enlisted a Knight and five students of the Academy to work for her, destroyed and taken over two large cities, assimilated control of an entire nation, snuck into Inusia of all places, and hacked into an entire communications corporation. Then she escaped from Inusia completely unharmed. Such accomplishments were unheard of. Not only was this woman dynamic and capable of the impossible, but now Vik was sworn to work for her. How ironic. If his father were to see him now, he would surely laugh in Vik’s face. Vik made it a point to himself not to make any form of contact with his father – not yet. He couldn’t show his face at the estate at all until his deeds were done and his ties with Vainia severed completely. Vik was completely lost in his thoughts when he found himself and Baron Kinandorf surrounded by Nneonian soldiers in the Nures streets. “I figured it wouldn’t be long until we were caught,” Vik muttered to himself as he walked in front of Jütenas, both of them in handcuffs and escorted by men in the desert brown Nneonian army uniforms. “What made you think that, I wonder,” Jütenas asked, their voice dripping with sarcasm. Vik did not pick up on this. “Well, for one, I’m an international fugitive from this place, and you’re a ward of one of the most wanted women in the world.” “…Wow,” was all Jütenas had to say. As they were escorted to the center of the sprawling tropical city, at which point they would undoubtedly be taken to the same bureaucratical headquarters Vik had been debriefed before climbing Mount Gulg, both Vik and Jütenas were given the chance to take in the sights of both Nures and Nneoh as a whole. The streets were lightly paved, the people walking around in droves were barely clothed, palm trees jutted up from the ground and swayed in the light wind, the sky was painted a pleasant lavender. The two of them were roughly jostled and lectured by the soldiers around them, but the walk was almost cathartic for them both. That ended for Vik when he neared the large headquarters building. All at once he was struck with feelings of unease and nostalgia. These swirling thoughts were perpetuated by glimpses of his previous comrade’s faces in his memory, and then the startling revelation soon after that, in all the months he had been gone, he had forgotten what all of his squad mates had looked like exactly. He felt dirty for failing them like this. Everything was much like it was the first time Vik had visited the place. The only difference in any of the circumstances was that Vik had an accomplice. It had felt like he was shackled in handcuffs the first time he had been debriefed. “How good it is to see you again, Lieutenant Colonel Vikcent Hyusei. We were beginning to think we’d lost you,” teased the faceless voice from behind the two-way mirror in the interrogation room. This time the solitary table behind the mirror had two mahogany chairs beneath it; Vik and Jütenas sat in them silently before hearing the first voice. “Don’t toy with me,” Vik growled. “I was dead to you and the rest of the world.” “Oh, not exactly. We’ve been seeing you all over the place. You sure did get around on that paid leave of yours, Lieutenant Colonel. But who knew you’d walk right onto our doorstep next?” Somehow, the seemingly playful prodding of the Nneonian officials angered Vik much more than they should have. “I want nothing to do with you lying bastards. I didn’t then and I don’t now. Justice couldn’t be further from your minds.” The fire of Vainia’s revelation still burned brightly in Vik’s chest. The makeshift eyepatch he reapplied over his right eye covered it as the optical organ throbbed in his irritation. A deep and condescending laugh could be heard from behind the mirror, and afterwards another, older-sounding voice replied. “Vikcent Hyusei. You are blind to the world.” “There is no justice in this world,” spoke the hidden voice that had greeted the two upon entering. “No winning or saving or redeeming. Only surviving, profiting, and flourishing. We have tried to get you to realize that.” “Okay, and then what?!” proclaimed Vik. “My life is over. We all knew it is. After that mission you were going to have me killed or shipped off somewhere and labeled crazy. Just like you did my father.” He bit his lip in bitterness. “Vance Hyusei was a decorated hero of the Civil War. We only gave the most honor and relief to his name,” subtly claimed the deepest voice from behind the mirror. Vik stood up in anger, almost knocking over the table. “Bull-fucking-shit! You tried to manipulate me into working for you like you did to him, and then use me to commit more of your hive mind injustice! You were probably behind the deaths of my teammates, too…” He looked down with sudden pain. “Was all this your plan to get me to work for you? To gather the –“ “We are here for a reason,” spoke up Jütenas for the first time. Vik immediately stopped speaking upon hearing their voice, and apparently so too did the men behind the mirror, for no other words were said until Jütenas continued. “We work for Nolstuvainia Sestrum and the nation she seeks to build in her name.” “That is known,” said a man from behind the mirror. All amusement was gone from his tone. “We demand your cooperation and come bearing negotiation terms.” “Ridiculous!” screamed the hidden deep voice. There were no more laughs from the group watching Vik and Jütenas. “The only reason why you weren’t executed on sight is because you hold information on the Zeta Rebellion. This is your opportunity to tell us everything you know before you will be tortured and eventually executed. The time for negotiation has long passed!” Vik looked at his reflection with a complex frown. “Vainia did nothing to Nneoh… Yet you stand against her with such passion? How could you dare claim you aren’t under the same illegal conglomerate that holds all of the world?” Silence reigned for a moment. “You are blind to the world,” repeated the deep voice. “As if there is anything to explain to future cadavers, anyway.” Jütenas continued unabated. “You will discretely disobey your orders from the World Government and you will support Vainia’s revolution through secretive yet effective methods. You will also make Vikcent Hyusei the ambassador of your relations with Queen Sestrum. As her Baron of Foreign Affairs I so speak.” Jütenas crossed their legs and their arms in finality. Now, finally, laughter resounded from behind the mirror. “You dare come in here and spout such absurd demands? What kind of decrepit old fools do you take us for? You mock us!” Vik looked at Jütenas and met the slender figure’s eyes in thought. An instant later, he looked forward, clenched his fists, and gulped decisively. “Do you think we’d have come to you if we didn’t have the power to back up our demands?” The laughter abruptly stopped. “Vainia was smart enough to take over most of Shorica, infiltrate and hack Inusia, and escape. She wouldn’t have sent two envoys here without a good plan.” “Vikcent Hyusei here is Vainia’s newly admitted officer,” added Jütenas. “We have a Crystal. He knows how to harness its power. Buckle to our demands or you will all be decimated. The interrogation room rung with deadly silence. “W… Why should we listen to these bluffs? Assuming we did die, nothing about our nation or the world would change. Vainia is insignificant.” The shakiness of the original hidden voice did not match its words. “Lady Vainia controls all of Shorica and thus its massive navy. She had the power to infiltrate and escape from Inusia, the strongest nation in the world, and was the one responsible for destroying and walking away from Phenicks. She is offering you a benevolent hand that will keep you from being ruined beneath her wrath… It would be wise of you all to grasp it,” Jütenas threatened. Their tone was icy and almost as detached as the voices themselves. “You’re all just a bunch of teenaged terrorists,” stammered the deep voice. “Especially her, that spoiled little princess whore. You’re all blind to the world. You can’t change a damn thing.” “We already have,” growled Vik with a dark smile upon his face. “None of those around her are children. Including myself. If you think I’m still the same weak little manipulated soldier you thought you could toss around… You’re wrong. It’s thanks to corrupt generations like yours that we all have had to rise up and seize power for ourselves. No more secrets. No more illegal alliances. No more lies. Work with us, and Vainia swore she would save Nneoh from destruction. Even if she didn’t, I wouldn’t let anything happen to my home. Make this easier than it has to be. Please.” Another long silence permeated the tense air. Truthfully it was only minutes long, but to Vik, it felt like hours. He was impatient, as was Jütenas, but most of all they were both fearful for what would happen if their bluffs were called upon. What terrified Vik the most was that even he could not tell which of his arguments were bluffs and which weren’t. Finally, someone behind the mirror spoke. “I, General Garland,” the deepest voice began, “Hereby declare this meeting adjourned. Lieutenant Colonel Vikcent Hyusei, you are from now on promoted to Colonel Ambassador to the Alliance of Nolstuvainia Sestrum. Your assistants and retainers of this organization will be meeting with you before the end of the week. You both are dismissed.” ***** “Not going to lie: I did not think that was going to work.” Jütenas walked a little in front of Vik as the two left the South Nures Military Headquarters, and had their hands in their pockets as they walked. Combined with the tightness of their pants, the further stretching with pocketed hands left the Baron’s behind clearly defined in Vik’s view; he looked away with an awkward frown. This time, Jütenas was the only one speaking. Vik himself had nothing to say, not after all that had happened. The “interrogation” had taken place over a few minutes, but to him it felt as if many intensive hours had passed. His comrades, his father, his mission… They had always been dwelling in the back of his mind, but now he was forced to think on them all once again. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that just yet. “Our returning airship doesn’t depart until midday tomorrow. What is there to do in Nures?” Now Jütenas turned to Vik, the hat over their eyes noticeably higher than usual. Light eyes, almost pink to view, greeted Vik’s blue ones and teased of mystery. Behind Jütenas’ thin form rose the buildings and horizon of Nures, the city in question, the City of Ports. It had countless harbors, docks, and ports built haphazardly on its miles of coastland, and smaller ports dotted the peaks of the land shaping the bay north of Nures, as well. It was known for its rowdy sailors and rich mercantilism to Nneonians, but was relatively unknown to others around the world, at least when compared to cultural centers like Shorekeep, Morshia City, or Kornelia. “Well… I need a drink, first of all.” Vik looked down and shook his head as he ran his hand first over his chin and then over the scar over his left eyebrow. “None of this is going like I thought it would…” “Drink, huh? So… pubs? That’s all Nneoh has. Disappointing.” Vik looked up at this sarcastic quip with an irritated brow. “I had you pegged for the quiet type. No, we’re not going to a damn pub. There’s been room and board arranged for us from Vainia.” Jütenas was silent for a moment, turning away and apparently losing all of the energy they had temporarily gained. “Lady Vainia. Or My Queen. Or Her Majesty. Not just Vainia.” “My queen? Who said I had to recognize her as my ruler? Just because I work for her doesn’t mean I see her as the ruler of me or my country.” Now Jütenas visibly flared up in rage like a reptile flashing its scales. The slim Baron turned to Vik and spat behind his feet, stopping to glare at him from the slope of a hilled street. “You swore allegiance to Lady Vainia. You swore to fight and die for her. I knew you were a traitor, but to renounce and deny your oaths to her are the worst possible cowardice!” Vik looked at the raging student, so thin and small that it appeared he could kill them with one finger and a long nail, and wanted to retaliate. He wanted to scream back at them, to rip off his shirt and let out all the aggression, confusion, and frustration he felt inside, but he couldn’t because he knew they were right. Jütenas was correct. He was searching for a way to escape, to run away from his vows, even subconsciously. ‘No,’ Vik thought to himself. ‘No more running or feeling sorry for myself. Only action. Only duty.’ As different as his circumstances were now compared to when he started, Vik still relied on his personal mantra to push himself through a difficult time. No hesitation. So Vik did not respond to Jütenas except to nod slightly and renounce his aggression. He turned and started walking, only for Jütenas to follow and soon keep step with the much taller man’s stride. “I swore my life to Lady Vainia,” he stated just loud enough for Jütenas to hear. “And the nation I lived and died for only wanted to use me and throw me away. I have a new ruler now.” A new master, he found himself thinking. A new puppetmaster. There was almost definitely a strong chance he had not escaped the duty of being a pawn, but only fled from one controller to another. Such an implication was not a pleasant thought. Once again, Vik found himself yearning for a drink, the sensation only growing stronger and stronger as he led Jütenas away from the bay and towards the inland part of Nures, the wealthy and noble area where Vainia had arranged a hotel room for the two of them. Neither he nor Jütenas spoke for the rest of their walk. This gave Vik time to think, although he did not necessarily desire it. Drink would eliminate these idle thoughts, he hoped. The desire to drink was likely coming from his memories of his father, who was a heavy alcoholic when the time called for it (to him, it constantly called). He learned and inherited everything from his father – except his righteousness. Except his strength. “So, we getting drinks or what?” Vik looked up to see Jütenas leaning against a barstool in the relatively empty hotel bar. Without even noticing it, Vik had led the both of them to their assigned hotel, reserved a room, and walked to the bar, all without leaving his personal reverie. That was careless of him. Digging in his pockets, Vik retrieved a handful of dolarov notes and placed them on the bar. “Of course we are. If you’re even old enough, that is.” The dark-skinned bartender looked up from the glass he was cleaning with raised eyebrows, but upon seeing the large amount of money Vik had carelessly paid with, he nodded and went about making two drinks for the two, on the rocks. “I’m 21. Old enough.” The subject seemed touchy for Jütenas, and the figure turned to face the bar and its glistening inventory of various-colored alcohol bottles. “I know I look young, but… I’m old enough.” Something in the Baron’s tone caught Vik’s attention, and he looked at Jütenas bent onto the counter, bad posture causing their vertebrae to be visible beneath the Zeta Academy uniform jacket they wore. He thought of speaking on this feeling, but decided against it with some difficulty. He was better off not prying into people’s business – a lesson long ago learned the hard way. “Aren’t you hot in that?” He muttered after finishing off his fourth shot of rum and waiting on another. Between the humid heat of the Nneonian night and the warmth of the alcohol, Vik was starting to sweat in his clothes. Surely Jütenas, still wearing the full Zeta Academy attire designed for comfortable wear back up in temperate Inusia, was burning up. “I don’t take it off. Not in front of people.” She turned away slightly and brought down the brim of his hat. Within seconds, the Baron had raised up and even reinforced the barrier between them and the outside world. It frustrated Vik. “What…? I’m not dragging you back to Vainia if you pass out from heat stroke!” With a grunt, he tugged at the collar of Jütenas’ jacket, but the Baron cried out and flinched at the contact. Vik froze, eyes wide. What had been frustration soon melted into concern and shame when Vik behold the cowering Baron. They had almost dropped their small shot glass, and had their arms held inward on their chest to lessen surface area. This was not some timid reaction or even an angered response to him calling out their dress code… This was fear. This stemmed from previous trauma or harm. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…” Vik stood, hands hovering over the Baron’s lithe shoulders and mind struggling to function. Without a better option, he finished off his fifth shot as soon as the glass was refilled. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just… I only meant…” “No. It’s okay.” The Baron stood as well, backing away from the barstool and gingerly taking another sip from their glass. “It’s a long story. I don’t… I don’t think I want to drink anymore.” Vik stood, staring at the small and slightly bent back in front of him. Jütenas looked so vulnerable right then, so fragile, that Vik viciously condemned himself for ever thinking any harm towards the person. That pose belied weakness, and he had always been raised to protect the weak. Not to oppress them. Was he becoming an oppressor? What had happened to his justice? “I’ll be in the room,” Jütenas stiffly said before running off to the stairs before Vik could get a word in. Their haste was great and their steps quick, but the quick movement jostled the hat from their head and it fell slowly on top of the barstool they left behind. Vik looked down at the hat in surprise and grabbed it, moving to return the protective garment to its owner, but when he looked up to their direction, he saw only a blur of pink before Jütenas disappeared around a corner. Should he go after them? Did he do anything wrong? Vik rubbed his scar and sat down with a groan. The drink was slowing down his thinking, but being conscious of this fact didn’t make it any less true. He was a lucid drunk, and the only solution in front of him was to continue drinking. The bartender gave no judgements and no advice, only more and more rum. He only managed to down another two drinks within the hour, and by then the night was dark and Vik’s chest was cold. He shivered, standing up from the bar after beginning to nod off, and started off to retreat to his room. He had been thinking this whole time, regretting his action and inaction, but was prepared to sleep off what he could and return to Vainia in the morning. His fingers brushed past the discarded hat on Jütenas’ empty barstool. Vik paused, looking at the foreign object with momentarily confusion, before picking it up and starting towards the stairs to their room. The hotel room was luxurious but not spacious, and was located all the way at the 11th floor. The climb was not painful for Vik’s muscled thighs, but it was tedious. The thoughts within the soldier’s head deviated between senseless noise and wonder at the image of a vulnerable Jütenas. Was the Baron a strong, independent ambassador, or a vulnerable, slim person to be protected? Vik was well aware of how his instincts to “protect” the “weak” had worked out for him in the past, and was possible morally flawed… But he did not know of any other options to take. What else was one to do? The cloth hat weighed down his hand and Vik noticed its presence once again. As he continued to ascend the stairs, he looked it over. Faint traces of straight, light hair were visible within its worn fabric, and almost as if entranced by them, Vik lifted the hat to his nose and gently sniffed it. The smell was divine – it hinted of roses, of lost gardens and faded innocence. He arrived at the door to their joint hotel room. The night would be awkward and he would be sore after sleeping on the floor – Vik was going to allow Jütenas the only bed – but he would be moving on soon, out of the country he once so wanted to return to. Things would change. The pain in his head would subside, soon. “You left your hat,” Vik slurred as he opened the door. “I brought it up for you…” His voice trailed off in a quick decrescendo as he looked up and squinted in awe at what he saw in the abode. Standing before the open window, drenched in the light of the quarter moon and wrapped in the blanket from the bed, Jütenas stood with their back facing Vik. A long mane of straight hair, pink in the moonlight, trailed down the comforter and a faint scent of roses wafted through the air. As the door opened, Jütenas turned their head towards Vik and let go of the cover, but left their arms still crossed over their chest. A lily white neck and shoulders peeked out from beneath their long hair, as did a pair of bright eyes beneath long eyelashes. Once the blanket fell to their feet, Jütenas took a step towards Vik. They were naked, and the rest of their skin shone as shyly as their eyes. “I trust you,” the Baron of Foreign Affairs said as the door closed behind Vik. ...End of Part Thirty-Five. <- Previous Page | Main Page | Next Page->